Why do I need a job, why do I need a jobI feel so free, I got nowhere to beSo why so I need a jobI once worked for an old bastardWho always pushed me to work fasterHe made fun of me'Cause my hair was greenHe tried to stick his hands into my jeansMy girlfriend is a stripper in AbileneShe likes me to stay home and watch TVShe pays for my foodShe likes to be rudeShe undresses her friends for meI don't have a clueWhat I want to doMaybe I could inventSomething coolOr I could do timeFor committing a crimeThen sue for a millionOr twoI traded my car for a vanFilled it with gas, guitars and this bandThey pay us with beerWe stole all this gearSo why don't ya'llGive us a hand